Outbreak
by Thequietnight
Summary: There was a time where everyone lead their normal, boring lives. I don't know about you, but now that zombies have taken over the world, there is no such thing as normal anymore.


By Beth Holden

Let me tell you something. Don't you ever take anything for granted. You don't understand how lucky you are. I would give anything to have my normal life back. I can guarantee you, that after you read my story; you won't bitch about High School anymore. My name is Shaylee Clark and I am seventeen years old and was on my last year of high school. I didn't have many friends, considering I am always alone. Thinking about it now, I don't think it's so bad anymore.

Grabbing some canned food from a run-down gas station, I carefully read the labels of the cans. Great, more canned vegetables. Listening to my grumbling stomach, I quickly decided it isn't that bad. Food is food after all. After opening a can with the can opener I had in my satchel, I quickly devour the mixed vegetables gratefully. Now a day, it gets tough to get by. Ammo for weapons, food, and even the simple needs was hard to get. Rare to find. It made my life easier by traveling alone. I would have to share rations, and I'm not exactly a sharing person. Hearing the moaning from the undead, I quickly stand, and grab my knife. Guns were nice to use, yes, but they made a loud noise when fired, which can cause these damn things to track you down and rip you apart piece by piece. Flesh-ripper's is what I call them. Speaking of flesh-rippers, there was a small pack of them walking by the broken window. Around four or five at the very least. I thanked everything I was behind a shelf at the time. If those things caught a whiff of my scent, I would be a goner. Finishing up from what I was doing, I dash out the back door, and run down the street. I cussed inwardly as my boots made thudding noises as I ran. It didn't matter though, as long as I find shelter, and fast.

I ceased my running as I spy an old antique shop. Looking around weakly, I break the window, and climb through. Still holding my knife, I slowly crept around, slowly pushing a door open, only to sigh in relief when there was nothing there. But hey, you can never be too sure, especially now. Grunting as I sat down to relieve my aching limbs, I glanced around. There really wasn't anything special about this place. Just dusty old furniture and old pictures that quite frankly, freaked me the fuck out. These faces that were just…staring at me hauntingly. Shaking my head, I focus my attention on my bag, and dig through it. Hissing in frustration because I forgot to grab some bottled water, I stretch out my legs, hoping to god that it wouldn't hurt this bad in the morning. I began to think of my old life. My two beagles named Sherman and Shelby. My older sister, Hannah. My mom and my dad... the first zombies I had to put down. Pushing that thought out of my head, I try to think of Hannah. There was a high chance she was still alive. She was in college the time everything went to hell. Maybe her and some of her friends got out, and managed to find a safe place to hide. God I hope so. It seemed hopeless to find her now. She's all the way in San Antonio, studying to be a lawyer. Hell knows I don't have the strength, or the willpower, to get from Ohio to Texas. But hey, a sense of false hope that she could be alive is getting me through my miserable new life. At least one of my closest family could still be alive and well…maybe.

I shoot up as I hear some footsteps coming from upstairs. Wait…since when did antique stores have a second floor? Maybe someone had lived up there and ran a store down here. A good of guess as any. Gritting my teeth, I search for the stairs, which were hidden in the backroom, where a lot of old glasses and boxes sat, waiting to be touched. I gripped my knife, and headed upstairs. If anything, it was a high possibility that whatever it was, it was a flesh-ripper. I haven't seen an alive human being since the outbreak. Slowly making my way up the stairs, I look around. Whatever was making the noise stopped as soon as it heard me coming. So, maybe it wasn't a flesh-ripper. It might be a survivor. I keep walking until I reach an empty bathroom, which was fully stocked with buckets of water. Odd. I tense up as I feel cold metal against my neck, and a low female voice whispering, "If you know what's good for you, you wouldn't touch any of this fucking water." I felt a rush of fear, but I sassed back, "Maybe I don't know what's good for me? I'm thirsty too you know." Great move Shay. Real nice. The metal moved, and the voice grunts, "Turn around and face me." I quickly obeyed her command. A tall red-headed girl stood in front of me, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She had on a black tee and shorts and some combat boots. I sigh, and she pipes up, "My name is Megan. Megan Black. And you aren't going anywhere." I sigh, and nod as she pats me down, and takes my knife from me. "Sorry bout this, but we aren't too trusting here. You will get it back if we think you are safe enough." My head was spinning. Wait, did she mention there was more survivors?

"If I have permission to speak, my name is Shaylee Clark. I'm from around here. You?" I ask, hoping to get more information on this person. She hesitated at first, and then muttered, "Yeah, I am. I was born and raised here." I nod, focusing on her words. She began to lead me down the hall, and towards a large room, where sleeping bags were laid out. I notice two more survivors. One boy, and one girl. The boy looked about sixteen, with long blond bangs and bright blue eyes. The girl, who was laying on the sleeping bag with a wet cloth over her head, looked younger. Like, twelve or so. The boy moves up quickly upon seeing me, and Megan raises her hand, "It's fine Drake. I'm watching her to see if she tries anything. She's not armed, so it wouldn't be a fair fight." She seemed to have noticed how hostile he looked. He grunts, and walks back to the girl, who was staring at me quietly. She had hazel eyes, and light brown hair that was in a braid. Megan nods to her, and looks at me, "Her name is Natalie. She and Drake came here together." I nod my greeting to the girl, who shyly nods back at me.

"Drake! Get her some water!" Megan shouted, and I sigh in relief. Drake glares slightly, before sulking off to do as the other requested. Megan gestures for me to sit down, which I do. She flops next to me, crossing her legs, "Don't mind Drake. He's always like this. Hell, he was like this when I let them in." She chuckles, "You would think he'd be grateful or something." I smile lightly, and look up as a water bottle is thrown into my lap. I thank him quietly, and he just grunts, before going back to Natalie's side. "It's uh, a nice place you got here." I say quickly, "Nice and safe. I'm sure the zombies have a hard time getting up here." Megan smiles lightly, "Good thing stairs aren't their strong suit huh?" Drake snorts from where he was sitting, but didn't add on to the conversation. I managed small talk with Megan while the sun started to set. Turns out she was hoping to set up her own little camp here and hopefully get some more people. She also explained that she and her small group were able to fully supply themselves with food, water, and medicine they managed to find. Turns out that Drake knew something about doctoring. Thank god for that. Still, as we laid down for the night, me still weaponless, I couldn't help but think about the possibility of there being more humans out there. Alive and breathing human beings that managed to live. To survive. I slowly drift out of consciousness, thinking about more humans in this dead world. Maybe, there was a chance we could survive this.


End file.
